the smoky god (willis george emerson)

8/6/2019 The Smoky God (Willis George Emerson)

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THE SMOKY GOD

Or A Voyage to the Inner World

"He is the God who sits in the center, on the navel of the earth, and he is theinterpreter of religion to all mankind."-- Plato.

PART ONE:

Author's Foreword

I fear the seemingly incredible story which I am about to relate will be regarded asthe result of a distorted intellect superinduced, possibly, by the glamour of

unveiling a marvelous mystery, rather than a truthful record of the unparalleledexperiences related by one Olaf Jansen, whose eloquent madness so appealed tomy imagination that all thought of an analytical criticism has been effectuallydispelled.

Marco Polo will doubtless shift uneasily in his grave at the strange story I am calledupon to chronicle; a story as strange as a Munchausen tale. It is also incongruousthat I, a disbeliever, should be the one to edit the story of Olaf Jansen, whosename is now for the first time given to the world, yet who must hereafter rank asone of the notables of earth.

I freely confess his statements admit of no rational analysis, but have to do with theprofound mystery concerning the frozen North that for centuries has claimed theattention of scientists and laymen alike.

However much they are at variance with the cosmographical manuscripts of thepast, these plain statements may be relied upon as a record of the things Olaf Jansen claims to have seen with his own eyes.

A hundred times I have asked myself whether it is possible that the world's

geography is incomplete, and that the startling narrative of Olaf Jansen ispredicated upon demonstrable facts. The reader may be able to answer thesequeries to his own satisfaction, however far the chronicler of this narrative may befrom having reached a conviction. Yet sometimes even I am at a loss to knowwhether I have been led away from an abstract truth by the ignes fatui of a clever superstition, or whether heretofore accepted facts are, after all, founded uponfalsity.

It may be that the true home of Apollo was not at Delphi, but in that older earth-center of which Plato speaks, where he says: "Apollo's real home is among theHyperboreans, in a land of perpetual life, where mythology tells us two doves flyingfrom the two opposite ends of the world met in this fair region, the home of Apollo.

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Indeed, according to Hecataeus, Leto, the mother of Apollo, was born on an islandin the Arctic Ocean far beyond the North Wind."

It is not my intention to attempt a discussion of the theogony of the deities nor thecosmogony of the world. My simple duty is to enlighten the world concerning aheretofore unknown portion of the universe, as it was seen and described by theold Norseman, Olaf Jansen.

Interest in northern research is international. Eleven nations are engaged in, or have contributed to, the perilous work of trying to solve Earth's one remainingcosmological mystery.

There is a saying, ancient as the hills, that "truth is stranger than fiction," and in amost startling manner has this axiom been brought home to me within the lastfortnight.

It was just two o'clock in the morning when I was aroused from a restful sleep by

the vigorous ringing of my door-bell. The untimely disturber proved to be amessenger bearing a note, scrawled almost to the point of illegibility, from an oldNorseman by the name of Olaf Jansen. After much deciphering, I made out thewriting, which simply said: "Am ill unto death. Come." The call was imperative, andI lost no time in making ready to comply.

Perhaps I may as well explain here that Olaf Jansen, a man who quite recentlycelebrated his ninety-fifth birthday, has for the last half-dozen years been livingalone in an unpretentious bungalow out Glendale way, a short distance from the

business district of Los Angeles, California.

It was less then two years ago, while out walking one afternoon, that I wasattracted by Olaf Jansen's house and it's homelike surroundings, toward its owner and occupant, whom I afterward came to know as a believer in the ancient worshipof Odin and Thor.

There was a gentleness in his face, and a kindly expression in the keenly alert grayeyes of this man who had lived more than four-score years and ten; and, withal, asense of loneliness that appealed to my sympathy. Slightly stooped, and with his

hands clasped behind him, he walked back and forth with slow and measuredtread, that day when first we met. I can hardly say what particular motive impelledme to pause in my walk and engage him in conversation. He seemed pleasedwhen I complimented him on the attractiveness of his bungalow, and on the well-tended vines and flowers clustering in profusion over its windows, roof and widepiazza.

I soon discovered that my new acquaintance was no ordinary person, but oneprofound and learned to a remarkable degree; a man who, in the later years of hislong life, had dug deeply into books and become strong in the power of meditative

silence.

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I encouraged him to talk, and soon gathered that he had resided only six or sevenyears in Southern California, but had passed the dozen years prior in one of themiddle Eastern states. Before that he had been a fisherman off the coast of Norway, in the region of the Lofoden Islands, from whence he had made trips stillfarther north to Spitzbergen and even to Franz Josef Land.

When I started to make my leave, he seemed reluctant to have me go, and asked

me to come again. Although at the time I thought nothing of it, I remember now thathe made a peculiar remark as I extended my hand in leave-taking. "You will comeagain?" he asked. "Yes, you will come again some day. I am sure you will; and Ishall show you my library and tell you many things of which you have never dreamed, things so wonderful that it may be you will not believe me."

I laughingly assured him that I would not only come again, but would be ready tobelieve whatever he might choose to tell me of his travels and adventures.

In the days that followed I became well acquainted with Olaf Jansen, and, little bylittle, he told me his story, so marvelous, that its very daring challenges reason andbelief. The old Norseman always expressed himself with so much earnestness andsincerity that I became enthralled by his strange narrations.

Then came the messengers's call that night, and within the hour I was at Olaf Jansen bungalow.

He was very impatient at the long wait, although after being summoned I had comeimmediately to his bedside.

"I must hasten," he exclaimed, while yet he held my hand in greeting. "I have muchto tell you that you know not, and I will trust no one but you. I fully realize," he wenton hurriedly," that I shall not survive the night. The time has come to join myfathers in the great sleep."

I adjusted the pillows to make him more comfortable, and assured him I was gladto be able to serve him in any way possible, for I was beginning to realize theseriousness of his condition.

The lateness of the hour, the stillness of the surroundings, the uncanny feeling of being alone with the dying man, together with his weird story, all combined to makemy heart beat fast and loud with a feeling for which I have no name. Indeed, therewere many times that night by the old Norseman's couch, and there have beenmany times since, when a sensation rather than a conviction took possession of my very soul, and I seemed not only to believe in, but actually see, the strangelands, the strange people and the strange world of which he told, and to hear themighty orchestral chorus of a thousand lusty voices.

For over two hours he seemed endowed with almost superhuman strength, talking

rapidly, and to all appearances, rationally. Finally he gave me into my handscertain data, drawings and crude maps. "These," said he in conclusion, "I leave inyour hands. If I can have your promise to give them to the world, I shall die happy,

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because I desire that people may know the truth, for then all mystery concerningthe frozen Northland will be explained. There is no chance of your suffering thefate I suffered. They will not put you in irons, nor confine you in a mad-house,because you are not telling your own story, but mine, and I, thanks to the gods,Odin and Thor, will be in my grave, and so beyond the reach of disbelievers whowould persecute."

Without a thought of the far-reaching results the promise entailed, or foreseeingthe many sleepless nights which the obligation has since brought me, I gave myhand and with it a pledge to discharge faithfully his dying wish.

As the sun rose over the peaks of the San Jacinto, far to the eastward, the spirit of Olaf Jansen, the navigator, the explorer and worshiper of Odin and Thor, the manwhose experiences and travels, as related, are without a parallel in the world'shistory, passed away, and I was left alone with the dead.

And now, after having paid the last sad rites to this strange man from the LofodenIslands, and the still farther "Northward Ho!", the courageous explorer of frozenregions, who in his declining years (after he had passed the four-score mark) hadsought an asylum of restful peace in sunfavored California, I will undertake tomake public his story.

But, first of all, let me indulge in one or two reflections:

Generation follows generation, and the traditions from the misty past are handeddown from sire to son, but for some strange reason interest in the ice-locked

unknown does not abate with the receding years, either in the minds of theignorant or the tutored.

With each new generation a restless impulse stirs the hearts of men to capture theveiled citadel of the Arctic, the circle of silence, the land of glaciers, cold wastes of waters and winds that are strangely warm. Increasing interest is manifested in themountainous icebergs, and marvelous speculations are indulged in concerning theearth's center of gravity, the cradle of the tides, where the whales have their nurseries, where the magnetic needle goes mad, where the Aurora Borealisillumines the night, and where brave and courageous spirits of every generation

dare to venture and explore, defying the dangers of the "Farthest North."

One of the ablest works of recent years is "Paradise Found, or the Cradle of TheHuman Race at the North Pole," by William F. Warren. In his carefully preparedvolume, Mr. Warren almost stubbed his toe against the real truth, but missed itseemingly by only a hair's breadth, if the old Norseman's revelation be true.

Dr. Orville Livingston Leech, scientist, in a recent article, says: "The possibilities of land inside the earth were first brought to my attention when I picked up a geodeon the shores of the Great Lakes. The geode is a spherical and apparently solid

stone, but when broken is found to be hollow and coated with crystals. The earth isonly a large form of a geode, and the law that created the geode in its hollow formundoubtedly fashioned the earth in the same way."

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In presenting the theme of this almost incredible story, as told by Olaf Jansen, andsupplemented by manuscript, maps and crude drawings entrusted to me, a fittingintroduction is found in the following quotation:

"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth, and the earth was withoutform and void." And also, "God created man in his own image." Therefore, even inthings material, man must be God-like, because he is in the likeness of the Father.

A man builds a house for himself and family. The porches or verandas are allwithout, and are secondary. The building is really constructed for the convenienceswithin.

Olaf Jansen makes the startling announcement through me, an humble instrument,that in like manner, God created the earth for the "within" - that is to say, for itslands, seas, rivers, mountains, forests and valleys, and for its other internalconveniences, while the outside surface of the earth is merely the veranda, theporch, where things grow by comparison but sparsely, like the lichen on themountain side, clinging determinedly for bare existence.

Take an egg-shell, and from each end break out a piece as large as the end of thispencil. Extract its contents, and then you will have a perfect representation of Olaf Jansen's earth. The distance from the inside surface to the outside surface,according to him, is about three hundred miles. The center of gravity is not in thecenter of the earth, but in the center of the shell or crust; therefore, if the thicknessof the earth's crust or shell is three hundred miles, the center of gravity is onehundred and fifty miles below the surface.

In their log-books Arctic explorers tell us of the dipping of the needle as the vesselsails in regions of the farthest north known. In reality, they are at the curve; on theedge of the shell, where gravity is geometrically increased, and while the electriccurrent seemingly dashes off into space toward the phantom idea of the NorthPole, yet this same electric current drops again and continues its course southwardalong the inside surface of the earth's crust.

In the appendix to his work, Captain Sabine gives an account of experiments todetermine the acceleration of the pendulum in different latitudes. This appears to

have resulted from the joint labor of Peary and Sabine. He says: "The accidentaldiscovery that a pendulum on being removed from Paris to the neighborhood of theequator increased its time of vibration, gave the first step to our present knowledgethat the polar axis of the globe is less than the equatorial; that the force of gravityat the surface of the earth increases progressively from the equator toward thepoles."

According to Olaf Jansen, in the beginning this old world of ours was created solelyfor the "within" world, where are located the four great rivers -- the Euphrates, thePison, the Gihon and the Hiddekel. These same names of rivers, when applied tostreams on the "outside" surface of the earth, are purely traditional from anantiquity beyond the memory of man.

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On the top of a high mountain, near the fountain-head of these four rivers, Olaf Jansen, the Norseman, claims to have discovered the long-lost "Garden of Eden,"the veritable navel of the earth, and to have spent over two years studying andreconnoitering in this marvelous "within" land, exuberant with stupendous plant lifeand abounding in giant animals; a land where the people live to be centuries old,after the order of Methuselah and other Biblical characters; a region where one-quarter of the "inner" surface is water and three-quarters land; where there are

large oceans and many rivers and lakes; where the cities are superlative inconstruction and magnificence; where modes of transportation are as far inadvance of ours as we with our boasted achievements are in advance of theinhabitants of "darkest Africa."

The distance directly across the space from inner surface to inner surface is aboutsix hundred miles less than the recognized diameter of the earth. In the identicalcenter of this vast vacuum is the seat of electricity -- a mammoth ball of dull red fire-- not startlingly brilliant, but surrounded by a white, mild, luminous cloud, giving

out uniform warmth, and held in its place in the center of this internal space by theimmutable law of gravitation. This electrical cloud is known to the people "within"as the abode of "The Smoky God." They believe it to be the throne of "The MostHigh."

Olaf Jansen reminded me of how, in the old college days, we were all familiar withthe laboratory demonstrations of centrifugal motion, which clearly proved that, if the earth were a solid, the rapidity of its revolution upon its axis would tear it into athousand fragments.

The old Norseman also maintained that from the farthest points of land on theislands of Spitzbergen and Franz Josef Land, flocks of geese may be seenannually flying still farther northward, just as the sailors and explorers record intheir log-books. No scientist has yet been audacious enough to attempt to explain,even to his own satisfaction, toward what lands these winged fowls are guided bytheir subtle instinct. However, Olaf Jansen has given us a most reasonableexplanation.

The presence of the open sea in the Northland is also explained. Olaf Jansenclaims that the northern aperture, intake or hole, so to speak, is about fourteen

hundred miles across. In connection with this, let us read what Explorer Nansenwrites, on page 288 of his book: "I have never had such a splendid sail. On to thenorth, steadily north, with a good wind, as fast as steam and sail can take us, anopen sea mile after mile, watch after watch, through these unknown regions,always clearer and clearer of ice, one might almost say: 'How long will it last?' Theeye always turns to the northward as one paces the bridge. It is gazing into thefuture. But there is always the same dark sky ahead which means open sea."Again, the Norwood Review of England, in its issue of May 10, 1884, says: "We donot admit that there is ice up to the Pole - once inside the great ice barrier, a new

world breaks upon the explorer, the climate is mild like that of England, and,afterward, balmy as the Greek Isles."

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Some of the rivers "within," Olaf Jansen claims, are larger than our Mississippi andAmazon rivers combined, in point of volume of water carried; indeed their greatness is occasioned by their width and depth rather than their length, and it isat the mouths of these mighty rivers, as they flow northward and southward alongthe inside surface of the earth, that mammoth icebergs are found, some of themfifteen and twenty miles wide and from forty to one hundred miles in length.

Is it not strange that there has never been an iceberg encountered either in theArctic or Antarctic Ocean that is not composed of fresh water? Modern scientistsclaim that freezing eliminates the salt, but Olaf Jansen claims differently.

Ancient Hindoo, Japanese and Chinese writings, as well as hieroglyphics of theextinct races of the North American continent, all speak of the custom of sun-worshiping, and it is possible, in the startling light of Olaf Jansen's revelations, thatthe people of the inner world, lured away by glimpses of the sun as it shone uponthe inner surface of the earth, either from the northern or the southern opening,became dissatisfied with "The Smoky God," the great pillar or mother cloud of electricity, and, weary of their continuously mild and pleasant atmosphere, followedthe brighter light, and were finally led beyond the ice belt and scattered over the"outer" surface of the earth, through Asia, Europe, North America and, later, Africa,Australia and South America.1

1The following quotation is significant; "It follows that man issuing from a mother-region still undetermined but which a number of considerations indicate to havebeen in the North, has radiated in several directions; that his migrations have beenconstantly from North to South." - M. le Marquis G. de Saporta, in Popular Science

Montly, October, 1883, page 753.

It is a notable fact that, as we approach the Equator, the stature of the human racegrows less. But the Patagonians of South America are probably the only aboriginesfrom the center of the earth who came out through the aperture usually designatedas the South Pole, and they are called the giant race.

Olaf Jansen avers that, in the beginning, the world was created by the GreatArchitect of the Universe, so that man might dwell upon its "inside" surface, whichhas ever since been the habitation of the "chosen."

They who were driven out of the "Garden of Eden" brought their traditional historywith them.

The history of the people living "within" contains a narrative suggesting the story of Noah and the ark with which we are familiar. He sailed away, as did Columbus,from a certain port, to a strange land he had heard of far to the northward, carryingwith him all manner of beasts of the fields and fowls of the air, but was never heardof afterward.

On the northern boundaries of Alaska, and still more frequently on the Siberiancoast, are found bone-yards containing tusks of ivory in quantities so great as tosuggest the burying-places of antiquity. From Olaf Jansen's account, they have

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come from the great prolific animal life that abounds in the fields and forests andon the banks of numerous rivers of the Inner World. The materials were caught inthe ocean currents, or were carried on ice-floes, and have accumulated likedriftwood on the Siberian coast. This has been going on for ages, and hence thesemysterious bone-yards.

On this subject William F. Warren, in his book already cited, pages 297 and 298,

says: "The Arctic rocks tell of a lost Atlantis more wonderful than Plato's. The fossilivory beds of Siberia excel everything of the kind in the world. From the days of Pliny, at least, they have constantly been undergoing exploitation, and still they arethe chief headquarters of supply. The remains of mammoths are so abundant that,as Gratacap says, 'the northern islands of Siberia seem built up of crowded bones.'Another scientific writer, speaking of the islands of New Siberia, northward of themouth of the River Lena, uses this language: 'Large quantities of ivory are dug outof the ground every year. Indeed, some of the islands are believed to be nothingbut an accumulation of drift-timber and the bodies of mammoths and other

antediluvian animals frozen together.' From this we may infer that, during the yearsthat have elapsed since the Russian conquest of Siberia, useful tusks from morethan twenty thousand mammoths have been collected."

But now for the story of Olaf Jansen. I give it in detail, as set down by himself inmanuscript, and woven into the tale, just as he placed them are certain quotationsfrom recent works on Arctic exploration, showing how carefully the old Norsemancompared with his own experiences those of other voyagers to the frozen North.Thus wrote the disciple of Odin and Thor.

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I never ceased to assert my sanity, and to protest against the injustice of my confinement.Finally, on the seventeenth of October, 1862, I was released. My uncle was dead, and thefriends of my youth were now strangers. Indeed, a man over fifty years old, whose onlyknown record is that of a madman, has no friends.

I was at a loss to know what to do for a living, but instinctively turned toward the harbor where fishing boats in great numbers were anchored, and within a week I had shipped with afisherman by the name of Yan Hansen, who was starting on a long fishing cruise to theLofoden Islands.

Here my earlier years of training proved of the very greatest advantage, especially inenabling me to make myself useful. This was but the beginning of other trips, and by frugaleconomy I was, in a few years, able to own a fishing-brig of my own.

For twenty-seven years thereafter I followed the sea as a fisherman, five years working for others, and the last twenty-two for myself.

During all these years I was a most diligent student of books, as well as a hard worker at my

business, but I took great care not to mention to anyone the story concerning the discoveriesmade by my father and myself. Even at this late day I would be fearful of having any one seeor know the things I am writing, and the records and maps I have in my keeping. When mydays on earth are finished, I shall leave maps and records that will enlighten and, I hope,benefit mankind.

The memory of my long confinement with maniacs, and all the horrible anguish andsufferings are too vivid to warrant my taking further chances.

In 1889 I sold out my fishing boats, and found I had accumulated a fortune quite sufficient tokeep me the remainder of my life. I then came to America.

For a dozen years my home was in Illinois, near Batavia, where I gathered most of the booksin my present library, though I brought many choice volumes from Stockholm. Later, I cameto Los Angeles, arriving here March 4, 1901. The date I well remember, as it was PresidentMcKinley's second inauguration day. I bought this humble home and determined, here in theprivacy of my own abode, sheltered by my own vine and fig-tree, and with my books aboutme, to make maps and drawings of the new lands we had discovered, and also to write thestory in detail from the time my father and I left Stockholm until the tragic event that parted usin the Antarctic Ocean.

I well remember that we left Stockholm in our fishing-sloop on the third day of April, 1829,

and sailed to the southward, leaving Gothland Island to the left and Oeland Island to the right.A few days later we succeeded in doubling Sandhommar Point, and made our way throughthe sound which separates Denmark from the Scandinavian coast. In due time we put in atthe town of Christiansand, where we rested two days, and then started around theScandinavian coast to the westward, bound for the Lofoden Islands.

My father was in high spirit, because of the excellent and gratifying returns he had receivedfrom our last catch by marketing at Stockholm, instead of selling at one of the seafaringtowns along the Scandinavian coast. He was especially pleased with the sale of some ivorytusks that he had found on the west coast of Franz Joseph Land during one of his northerncruises the previous year, and he expressed the hope that this time we might again befortunate enough to load our little fishing-sloop with ivory, instead of cod, herring, mackereland salmon.

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We put in at Hammerfest, latitude seventy-one degrees and forty minutes, for a few days'rest. Here we remained one week, laying in an extra supply of provisions and several casksof drinking-water, and then sailed toward Spitzbergen.

For the first few days we had an opensea and favoring wind, and then weencountered much ice and manyicebergs. A vessel large than our littlefishing-sloop could not possibly havethreaded its way among the labyrinth of icebergs or squeezed through thebarely open channels. These monster bergs presented an endless successionof crystal palaces, of massivecathedrals and fantastic mountainranges, grim and sentinel-like,immovable as some towering cliff of solid rock, standing silent as sphinx,

resisting the restless waves of a fretfulsea.

After many narrow escapes, we arrivedat Spitsbergen on the 23d of June, andanchored at Wijade Bay for a short time,where we were quite successful in our catches. We then lifted anchor andsailed through the Hinlopen Strait, andcoasted along the North-East-Land.2

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It will be remembered that Andreestarted on his fatal balloon voyage fromthe northwest coast of Spitzbergen.

A strong wind came up from thesouthwest, and my father said that wehad better take advantage of it and try

to reach Franz Josef Land, where, the year before he had, by accident, found the ivory tusksthat had brought him such a good price at Stockholm.

Never, before or since, have I seen so many sea-fowl; they were so numerous that they hid

the rocks on the coast line and darkened the sky.

For several days we sailed along the rocky coast of Franz Josef Land. Finally, a favoringwind came up that enabled us to make the West Coast, and, after sailing twenty-four hours,we came to a beautiful inlet.

One could hardly believe it was the Northland. The place was green with growing vegetation,and while the area did not comprise more than one or two acres, yet the air was warm andtranquil. It seemed to be at that point where the Gulf Stream's influence is most keenly felt.3

3Sir John Barrow, Bart., F.R.S., in his work entitled "Voyages of Discovery and ResearchWithin the Arctic Regions," says on page 57: "Mr. Beechey refers to what has frequently been found and noticed -- the mildness of the temperature on the western coast of Spitsbergen, there being little or no sensation of cold, though the thermometer might be only

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a few degrees above the freezing-point. The brilliant and lively effect of a clear day, when thesun shines forth with a pure sky, whose azure hue is so intense as to find no parallel even inthe boasted Italian sky."

On the east coast there were numerous icebergs, yet here we were in open water. Far to thewest of us, however, were icepacks, and still farther to the westward the ice appeared likeranges of low hills. In front of us, and directly to the north, lay an open sea .4

4Captain Kane, on page 299, quoting from Morton's Journal, the 26th of December, says: "Asfar as I could see, the open passages were fifteen miles or more wide, with sometimesmashed ice separating them. But it is all small ice, and I think it either drives out to the openspace to the north or rots and sinks, as I could see none ahead to the north."

My father was an ardent believer in Odin and Thor, and had frequently told me they weregods who came from far beyond the "North Wind."

There was a tradition, my father explained, that still farther northward was a land morebeautiful than any that mortal man had ever known, and that it was inhabited by the

"Chosen."

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5We find the following in "Deutsche Mythologie," page 778, from the pen of JakobGrimm;"Then the sons of Bor built in the middle of the universe the city called Asgard, wheredwell the gods and their kindred, and from that abode work out so many wondrous thingsboth on the earth and in the heavens above it. There is in that city a place called Hlidskjalf,and when Odin is seated there upon his lofty throne he sees over the whole world and discerns all the actions of men."

My youthful imagination was fired by the ardor, zeal and religious fervor of my good father,and I exclaimed: "Why not sail to this goodly land? The sky is fair, the wind favorable and the

sea open."

Even now I can see the expression of pleasurable surprise on his countenance as he turnedtoward me and asked: "My son, are you willing to go with me and explore -- to go far beyondwhere man has ever ventured?" I answered affirmatively. "Very well," he replied. "May thegod Odin protect us!" and, quickly adjusting the sails, he glanced at our compass, turned theprow in due northerly direction through an open channel, and our voyage had begun .6

6Hall writes, on page 288: "On 23rd of January the two Esquimaux, accompanied by two of the seamen, went to Cape Lupton. They reported a sea of open water extending as far asthe eye could reach."

The sun was low in the horizon, as it was still the early summer. Indeed, we had almost four months of day ahead of us before the frozen night could come on again.

Our little fishing-sloop sprang forward as if eager as ourselves for adventure. Within thirty-sixhours we were out of sight of the highest point on the coast line of Franz Josef Land. Weseemed to be in a strong current running north by northeast. Far to the right and to the left of us were icebergs, but our little sloop bore down on the narrows and passed through channelsand out into open seas - channels so narrow in places that, had our craft been other thansmall, we never could have gotten through.

On the third day we came to an island. Its shores were washed by an open sea. My father determined to land and explore for a day. This new land was destitute of timber, but we found

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a large accumulation of drift-wood on the northern shore. Some of the trunks of the treeswere forty feet long and two feet in diameter.7

7Greely tells us in vol. 1, page 100, that: "Privates Connell and Frederick found a largeconiferous tree on the beach, just above the extreme high-water mark. It was nearly thirty inches in circumference, some thirty feet long, and had apparently been carried to that point by a current within a couple of years. A portion of it was cut up for fire-wood, and for the first time in that valley, a bright, cheery camp-fire gave comfort to man."

After one day's exploration of the coast line of this island, we lifted anchor and turned our prow to the north in an open sea.8

8Dr. Kane says, on page 379 of his works: "I cannot imagine what becomes of the ice. Astrong current sets in constantly to the north; but, from altitudes of more than five hundred feet, I saw only narrow strips of ice, with great spaces of open water, from ten to fifteen milesin breadth, between them. It must, therefore, either go to an open space in the north, or dissolve."

I remember that neither my father nor myself had tasted food for almost thirty hours. Perhapsthis was because of the tension of excitement about our strange voyage in waters farther north, my father said, than anyone had ever before been. Active mentality had dulled thedemands of the physical needs.

Instead of the cold being intense as we had anticipated, it was really warmer and morepleasant than it had been while in Hammerfest on the north coast of Norway, some six weeksbefore.9

9Captain Peary's second voyage relates another circumstance which may serve to confirm aconjecture which has long been maintained by some, that an open sea, free of ice, exists at

or near the Pole. "On the second of November," says Peary, "the wind freshened up to agale from north by west, lowered the thermometer before midnight to 5 degrees, whereas, arise of wind at Melville Island was generally accompanied by a simultaneous rise in thethermometer at low temperatures. May not this," he asks, "be occasioned by the wind blowing over an open sea in the quarter from which the wind blows? And tend to confirm theopinion that at or near the Pole an open sea exists?"

We both frankly admitted that we were very hungry, and forthwith I prepared a substantialmeal from our well-stored larder. When we had partaken heartily of the repast, I told myfather I believed I would sleep, as I was beginning to feel quite drowsy. "Very well," hereplied, "I will keep the watch."

I have no way to determine how long I slept; I only know that I was rudely awakened by aterrible commotion of the sloop. To my surprise, I found my father sleeping soundly. I criedout lustily to him, and starting up, he sprang quickly to his feet. Indeed, had he not instantlyclutched the rail, he would certainly have been thrown into the seething waves.

A fierce snow-storm was raging. The wind was directly astern, driving our sloop at a terrificspeed, and was threatening every moment to capsize us. There was no time to lose, the sailshad to be lowered immediately. Our boat was writhing in convulsions. A few icebergs weknew were on either side of us, but fortunately the channel was open directly to the north. Butwould it remain so? In front of us, girding the horizon from left to right, was a vaporish fog or mist, black as Egyptian night at the water's edge, and white like a steam-cloud toward thetop, which was finally lost to view as it blended with the great white flakes of falling snow.Whether it covered a treacherous iceberg, or some other hidden obstacle against which our

14



little sloop would dash and send us to a watery grave, or was merely the phenomenon of anArctic fog, there was no way to determine.10

10On the page 284 of his works, Hall writes: "From the top of Providence Berg, a dark fog was seen to the north, indicating water. At 10 a.m. three of the men (Kruger, Nindemann and Hobby) went to Cape Lupton to ascertain if possible the extent of the open water. On their return they reported several open spaces and much young ice -- not more than a day old, sothin that it was easily broken by throwing pieces of ice upon it."

By what miracle we escaped beingdashed to utter destruction, I do notknow. I remember our little craft creakedand groaned, as if its joints werebreaking. It rocked and staggered toand fro as if clutched by some fierceundertow of whirlpool or maelstrom.

Fortunately our compass had been

fastened with long screws to a cross-beam. Most of our provisions, however,were tumbled out and swept away fromthe deck of the cuddy, and had we nottaken the precaution at the verybeginning to tie ourselves firmly to themasts of the sloop, we should havebeen swept into the lashing sea.

Above the deafening tumult of theraging waves, I heard my father's voice.

"Be courageous, my son," he shouted,"Odin is the god of the waters, thecompanion of the brave, and he is withus. Fear not."

To me it seemed there was nopossibility of our escaping a horribledeath. The little sloop was shippingwater, the snow was falling so fast as tobe blinding, and the waves weretumbling over our counters in reckless

white-sprayed fury. There was no tellingwhat instant we should be dashed against some drifting icepack. The tremendous swellswould heave us up to the very peaks of mountainous waves, then plunge us down into thedepths of the sea's trough as if our fishing-sloop were a fragile shell. Gigantic white-cappedwaves, like veritable walls, fenced us in, fore and aft.

This terrible nerve-racking ordeal, with its nameless horrors of suspense and agony of fear indescribable, continued for more than three hours, and all the time we were being drivenforward at fierce speed. Then suddenly, as if growing weary of its frantic exertions, the windbegan to lessen its fury and by degrees to die down.

At last we were in prefect calm. The fog mist had also disappeared, and before us lay aniceless channel perhaps ten or fifteen miles wide with a few icebergs far away to our right,and an intermittent archipelago of smaller ones to the left.

15



I watched my father closely, determined to remain silent until he spoke. Presently he untiedthe rope from his waist and, without saying a word, began working the pumps, whichfortunately were not damaged, relieving the sloop of the water it had shipped in the madnessof the storm.

He put up the sloop's sails as calmly as if casting a fishing-net, and then remarked that wewere ready for a favoring wind when it came. His courage and persistence were trulyremarkable.

On investigation we found less than one-third of our provisions remaining, while to our utter dismay, we discovered that our water-casks had been swept overboard during the violentplungings of our boat.

Two of our water-casks were in the main hold, both were empty. We had a fair supply of food, but no fresh water. I realized at once the awfulness of our position. Presently I wasseized with a consuming thirst. "It is indeed bad," remarked my father. "However, let us dryour bedraggled clothing, for we are soaked to the skin. Trust to the god Odin, my son. Do notgive up hope."

The sun was beating down slantingly, as if we were in a southern latitude, instead of in thefar Northland. It was swinging around, its orbit ever visible and rising higher and higher eachday, frequently mist-covered, yet always peering through the lacework of clouds like somefretful eye of fate, guarding the mysterious Northland and jealously watching the pranks of man. Far to our right the rays decking the prisms of icebergs were gorgeous. Their reflectionsemitted flashes of garnet, of diamond, of sapphire. A pyrotechnic panorama of countlesscolors and shapes, while below could be seen the green-tinted sea, and above, the purplesky.

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PART THREE:

Beyond The North Wind

I tried to forget my thirst by busying myself with bringing up some food and an empty vesselfrom the hold. Reaching over the side-rail, I filled the vessel with water for the purpose of laving my hands and face. To my astonishment, when the water came in contact with my lips,

I could taste no salt. I was startled by the discovery. "Father!" I fairly gasped, "the water, thewater; it is fresh!" "What, Olaf?" exclaimed my father, glancing hastily around. "Surely you aremistaken. There is no land. You are going mad." "But taste it!" I cried.

And thus we made the discovery that the water was indeed fresh, absolutely so, without theleast briny taste or even the suspicion of a salty flavor.

We forthwith filled our two remaining water-casks, and my father declared it was a heavenlydispensation of mercy from the gods Odin and Thor.

We were almost beside ourselves with joy, but hunger bade us end our enforced fast. Now

that we had found fresh water in the open sea, what might we not expect in this strangelatitude where ship had never before sailed and the splash of an oar had never been heard?11

11In vol. I, page 196, Nansen writes: "It is a peculiar phenomenon, - this dead water. We had at present a better opportunity of studying it than we desired. It occurs where a surface layer of fresh water rests upon the salt water of the sea, and this fresh water is carried along withthe ship gliding on the heavier sea beneath it as if on a fixed foundation. The differencebetween two strata was in this case so great that while we had drinking water on the surface,the water we got from the bottom cock of the engine-room was far too salt to be used for theboiler."

We had scarcely appeased our hunger when a breeze began filling the idle sails, and,glancing at the compass, we found the northern point pressing hard against the glass.

In response to my surprise, my father said: "I have heard of this before; it is what they call thedipping of the needle."

We loosened the compass and turned it at right angles with the surface of the sea before itspoint would free itself from the glass and point according to unmolested attraction. It shifteduneasily, and seemed as unsteady as a drunken man, but finally pointed a course.

Before this we thought the wind was carrying us north by northwest, but, with the needle free,we discovered, if it could be relied upon, that we were sailing slightly north by northeast. Our course, however, was ever tending northward.12

12In volume II, pages 18 and 19, Nansen writes about the inclination of the needle. Speaking of Johnson, his aide: "One day -- it was November 24th -- he came in to supper a little after six o'clock, quite alarmed, and said: 'There has just been a singular inclination of the needlein twenty four degrees. And remarkably enough, its northern extremity pointed to the east.'"

We again find in Peary's first voyage - page 67, - the following: "It had been observed that

from the moment they had entered Lancaster Sound, the motion of the compass needle wasvery sluggish, and both this and its deviation increased as they progressed to the westward,and continued to do so in descending this inlet. Having reached latitude 73 degrees, they witnessed for the first time the curious phenomenon of the directive power of the needle

17



becoming so weak as to be completely overcome by the attraction of the ship, so that theneedle might now be said to point to the north pole of the ship."

The sea was serenely smooth, with hardly a choppy wave, and the wind brisk andexhilarating. The sun's rays, while striking us aslant, furnished tranquil warmth. And thus timewore on day after day, and we found from the record in our log-book, we had been sailingeleven days since the storm in the open sea.

By strictest economy, our food was holding out fairly well, but beginning to run low. In themeantime, one of our casks of water had been exhausted, and my father said: "We will fill itagain." But, to our dismay, we found the water was now as salt as in the region of theLofoden Islands off the coast of Norway. This necessitated our being extremely careful of theremaining cask.

I found myself wanting to sleep much of the time; whether it was the effect of the excitingexperience of sailing in unknown waters, or the relaxation from the awful excitement incidentto our adventure in a storm at sea, or due to want of food, I could not say.

I frequently lay down on the bunker of our little sloop, and looked far up into blue dome of thesky; and, notwithstanding the sun was shining far away in the east, I always saw a single star overhead. For several days, when I looked for this star, it was always there directly above us.

It was now, according to our reckoning, about the first of August. The sun was high in theheavens, and was so bright that I could no longer see the one lone star that attracted myattention a few days earlier.

One day about this time, my father startled me by calling my attention to anovel sight far in front of us, almost at

the horizon. "It is a mock sun,"exclaimed my father. "I have read of them; it is called a reflection or mirage.It will soon pass away."

But this dull-red, false sun, as wesupposed it to be, did not pass away for several hours; and while we wereunconscious of its emitting any rays of light, still there was no time thereafter when we could not sweep the horizon in

front and locate the illumination of theso-called false sun, during a period of atleast twelve hours out of every twenty-four.

Clouds and mists would at times almost,but never entirely, hide its location.Gradually it seemed to climb higher inthe horizon of the uncertain purply skyas we advanced. It could hardly be saidto resemble the sun, except in itscircular shape, and when not obscuredby clouds or the ocean mists, it had a

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hazy-red, bronzed appearance, which would change to a white like a luminous cloud, as if reflecting some greater light beyond.

We finally agreed in our discussion of this smoky furnace-colored sun, that, whatever thecause of the phenomenon, it was not a reflection of our sun, but a planet of some sort -- areality.13

13Nansen, on page 394, says: "Today another noteworthy thing happened, which was that about midday we saw the sun, or to be more correct, an image of the sun, for it was only amirage. A peculiar impression was produced by the sight of that glowing fire lit just above theoutermost edge of the ice. According to the enthusiastic descriptions given by many Arctic travelers of the first appearance of this god of life after the long winter night, the impressionought to be one of jubilant excitement; but it was not so in my case. We had not expected tosee it for some days yet, so that my feeling was rather one of pain, of disappointment, that we must have drifted farther south than we thought. So it was with pleasure I soondiscovered that it could not be the sun itself. The mirage was at first a flattened-out, glowing red streak of fire on the horizon; later there were two streaks, the one above the other, with adark space between; and from the main top I could see four, or even five, such horizontal

lines directly over one another, all of equal length, as if one could only imagine a square,dull-red sun, with horizontal dark streaks across it."

One day soon after this, I felt exceedingly drowsy, and fell into a sound sleep. But it seemedthat I was almost immediately aroused by my father's vigorous shaking of me by the shoulder and saying: "Olaf, awaken; there is land in sight!"

I sprang to my feet, and oh! joy unspeakable! There, far in the distance, yet directly in our path, were lands jutting boldly into the sea. The shore-line stretched far away to the right of us, as far as the eye could see, and all along the sandy beach were waves breaking intochoppy foam, receding, then going forward again, ever chanting in monotonous thunder

tones the song of the deep. The banks were covered with trees and vegetation. I cannotexpress my feeling of exultation at this discovery. My father stood motionless, with his handon the tiller, looking straight ahead, pouring out his heart in thankful prayer and thanksgivingto the gods Odin and Thor.

In the meantime, a net which we found in the stowage had been cast, and we caught a fewfish that materially added to our dwindling stock of provisions.

The compass, which we had fastened back in its place, in fear of another storm, was stillpointing due north, and moving on its pivot, just as it had in Stockholm. The dipping of theneedle had ceased. What could this mean? Then, too, our many days of sailing had certainly

carried us far past the North Pole. And yet the needle continued to point north. We weresorely perplexed, for surely our direction was now south.14

14Peary's first voyage, pages 69 and 70, says: "On reaching Sir Byam Martin's Island, thenearest to Melville Island, the latitude of the place of observation was 75 degrees-09'-23'',and the longitude 103 degrees-44'-37''; the dip of the magnetic needle of 88 degrees-25'-58'' west in the longitude of 91 degrees-48', where the last observations on the shore had beenmade, to 165 degrees-50'-09'', east, at their present station, so that we had," says Peary, "insailing over the space included between this two meridians, crossed immediately northward of the magnetic pole, and had undoubtedly passed over one of those spots upon the globewhere the needle would have been found to vary 180 degrees, or in other words, where theNorth Pole would have pointed to the south."

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We sailed for three days along the shoreline, then came to the mouth of a fjord or river of immense size. It seemed more like a great bay, and into this we turned our fishing-craft, thedirection being slightly northeast of south. By the assistance of a fretful wind that came to our aid about twelve hours out of every twenty-four, we continued to make our way inland, intowhat afterward proved to be a mighty river, and which we learned was called by theinhabitants Hiddekel.

We continued our journey for ten days thereafter, and found we had fortunately attained adistance inland where ocean tides no longer affected the water, which had become fresh.

The discovery came none to soon, for our remaining cask of water was well-nigh exhausted.We lost no time in replenishing our casks, and continued to sail farther up the river when thewind was favorable.

Along the banks great forests miles in extent could be seen stretching away on the shore-line. The trees were of enormous size. We landed after anchoring near a sandy beach, andwaded ashore, and were rewarded by finding a quantity of nuts that were very palatable andsatisfying to hunger, and a welcome change from the monotony of our stock of provisions.

It was about the first of September, over five months, we calculated, since our leave-takingfrom Stockholm. Suddenly we were frightened almost out of our wits by hearing in the far distance the singing of people. Very soon thereafter we discovered a huge ship gliding downthe river directly toward us. Those aboard were singing in one mighty chorus that, echoingfrom bank to bank, sounded like a thousand voices, filling the whole universe with quiveringmelody. The accompaniment was played on stringed instruments not unlike our harps.

It was a larger ship than any we had ever seen, and was differently constructed.15

15 Asiatic Mythology, -- page 240, "Paradise Found" -- from translation by Sayce, in a book

called "Records of the Past", we were told of a "dwelling" which "the gods created for" thefirst human beings, -- a dwelling in which they "become great" and "increased in numbers," and the location of which is described in words exactly corresponding to those of Iranian,Indian, Chinese, Eddaic and Aztecan literature; namely, "in the center of the earth." --Warren.

At this particular time our sloop was becalmed, and not far from the shore. The bank of theriver, covered with mammoth trees, rose up several hundred feet in beautiful fashion. Weseemed to be on the edge of some primeval forest that doubtless stretched far inland.

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The immense craft paused, and almostimmediately a boat was lowered and sixmen of gigantic stature rowed to our little fishing-sloop. They spoke to us in astrange language. We knew from their manner, however, that they were notunfriendly. They talked a great dealamong themselves, and one of themlaughed immoderately, as though infinding us a queer discovery had beenmade. One of them spied our compass,and it seemed to interest them morethan any other part of our sloop.

Finally, the leader motioned as if to askwhether we were willing to leave our craft to go on board their ship. "Whatsay you, my son?" asked my father.

"They cannot do any more than kill us."

"They seem to be kindly disposed," Ireplied, "although what terrible giants!They must be the select six of thekingdom's crack regiment. Just look attheir great size."

"We may as well go willingly as betaken by force," said my father, smiling,"for they are certainly able to capture

us." Thereupon he made known, bysigns, that we were ready to accompanythem.

Within a few minutes we were on board the ship, and half an hour later our little fishing-crafthad been lifted bodily out of the water by a strange sort of hook and tackle, and set on boardas a curiosity.

There were several hundred people on board this, to us, mammoth ship, which wediscovered was called "The Naz," meaning, as we afterward learned, "Pleasure," or to give amore proper interpretation, "Pleasure Excursion" ship.

If my father and I were curiously observed by the ship's occupants, this strange race of giantsoffered us an equal amount of wonderment.

There was not a single man aboard who would not have measured fully twelve feet in height.They all wore full beards, not particularly long, but seemingly short-cropped. They had mildand beautiful faces, exceedingly fair, with ruddy complexions. The hair and beard of somewere black, others sandy, and still others yellow. The captain, as we designated the dignitaryin command of the great vessel, was fully a head taller than any of his companions. Thewomen averaged from ten to eleven feet in height. Their features were especially regular andrefined, while their complexion was of a most delicate tint heightened by a healthful glow.16

16"According to all procurable data, that spot at the era of man's appearance upon the stagewas in the now lost 'Miocene continent,' which then surrounded the Arctic Pole. That in that

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true, original Eden some of the early generations of men attained to a stature and longevity unequaled in any countries known to postdiluvian history is by no means scientifically incredible." - Wm. F. Warren, "Paradise Found," p. 284.

Both men and women seemed to possess that particular case of manner which we deem asign of good breeding, and, notwithstanding their huge statures, there was nothing aboutthem suggesting awkwardness. As I was a lad in only my nineteenth year, I was doubtlesslooked upon as a true Tom Thumb. My father's six feet three did not lift the top of his headabove the waist line of these people.

Each one seemed to vie with the others in extending courtesies and showing kindness to us,but all laughed heartily, I remember, when they had to improvise chairs for my father andmyself to sit at table. They were richly attired in a costume peculiar to themselves, and veryattractive. The men were clothed in handsomely embroidered tunics of silk and satin andbelted at the waist. They wore knee-breeches and stockings of a fine texture, while their feetwere encased in sandals adorned with gold buckles. We early discovered that gold was oneof the most common metals known, and that it was used extensively in decoration.

Strange as it may seem, neither my father nor myself felt the least bit of solicitude for our safety. "We have come into our own," my father said to me. "This is the fulfillment of thetradition told me by my father and my father's father, and still back for many generations of our race. This is, absurdly, the land beyond the North Wind."

We seemed to make such an impression on the party that we were given specially into thecharge of one of the men, Jules Galdea, and his wife, for the purpose of being educated intheir language; and we, on our part, were just as eager to learn as they were to instruct.

At the captain's command, the vessel was swung cleverly about, and began retracing itscourse up the river. The machinery, while noiseless, was very powerful.

The banks and trees on either side seemed to rush by. The ship's speed, at times, surpassedthat of any railroad train on which I have ever ridden, even here in America. It was wonderful.

In the meantime we had lost sight of the sun's rays, but we found a radiance "within"emanating from the dull-red sun which had already attracted our attention, now giving out awhite light seemingly from a cloud-bank far away in front of us. It dispensed a greater light, Ishould say, than two full moons on the clearest night.

In twelve hours this cloud of whiteness would pass out of sight as if eclipsed, and the twelvehours following corresponded with our night. We early learned that these strange people

were worshipers of this great cloud of night. It was "The Smoky God" of the "Inner World."

The ship was equipped with a mode of illumination which I now presume was electricity, butneither my father nor myself were sufficiently skilled in mechanics to understand whencecame the power to operate the ship, or to maintain the soft beautiful lights that answered thesame purpose of our present methods of lighting the streets of our cities, our houses andplaces of business.

It must be remembered, the time of which I write was the autumn of 1829, and we of the"outside" surface of the earth knew nothing then, so to speak, of electricity.

The electrically surcharged condition of the air was a constant vitalizer. I never felt better inmy life than during the two years my father and I sojourned on the inside of the earth.

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To resume my narrative of events: The ship on which we were sailing came to a stop twodays after we had been taken on board. My father said as nearly as he could judge, we weredirectly under Stockholm or London. The city we had reached was called "Jehu," signifying aseaport town. The houses were large and beautifully constructed, and quite uniform inappearance, yet without sameness. The principal occupation of the people appeared to beagriculture; the hillsides were covered with vineyards, while the valleys were devoted to thegrowing of grain.

I never saw such a display of gold. It was everywhere. The door-casings were inlaid and thetables were veneered with sheetings of gold. Domes of the public buildings were of gold. Itwas used most generously in the finishings of the great temples of music.

Vegetation grew in lavish exuberance, and fruit of all kinds possessed the most delicateflavor. Clusters of grapes four and five feet in length, each grape as large as an orange, andapples larger than a man's head typified the wonderful growth of all things on the "inside" of the earth.

The great redwood trees of California would be considered mere underbrush compared with

the giant forest trees extending for miles and miles in all directions. In many directions alongthe foothills of the mountains vast herds of cattle were seen during the last day of our travelon the river.

We heard much of a city called "Eden," but were kept at "Jehu" for an entire year. By the endof that time we had learned to speak fairly well the language of this strange race of people.Our instructors, Jules Galdea and his wife, exhibited a patience that was truly commendable.

One day an envoy from the Ruler at "Eden" came to see us, and for two whole days myfather and myself were put through a series of surprising questions. They wished to knowfrom whence we came, what sort of people dwelt "without," what God we worshiped, our

religious beliefs, the mode of living in our strange land, and a thousand other things.

The compass which we had brought with us attracted especial attention. My father and Icommented between ourselves on the fact that the compass still pointed north, although wenow knew that we had sailed over the curve or edge of the earth's aperture, and were far along southward on the "inside" surface of the earth's crust, which, according to my father'sestimate and my own, is about three hundred miles in thickness from the "inside" to the"outside" surface. Relatively speaking, it is no thicker than an egg-shell, so that there isalmost as much surface on the "inside" as on the "outside" of the earth.

The great luminous cloud or ball of dull-red fire -- fiery-red in the mornings and evenings, and

during the day giving off a beautiful white light, "The Smoky God," -- is seemingly suspendedin the center of the great vacuum "within" the earth, and held to its place by the immutablelaw of gravitation, or a repellant atmospheric force, as the case may be. I refer to the knownpower that draws or repels with equal force in all directions.

The base of this electrical cloud or central luminary, the seat of the gods, is dark and non-transparent, save for innumerable small openings, seemingly in the bottom of the greatsupport or altar of the Deity, upon which "The Smoky God" rests; and, the lights shiningthrough these many openings twinkle at night in all their splendor, and seem to be stars, asnatural as the stars we saw shining when in our home at Stockholm, excepting that theyappear larger. "The Smoky God," therefore, with each daily revolution of the earth, appearsto come up in the east and go down in the west the same as does our sun on the externalsurface. In reality, the people "within" believe that "The Smoky God" is the throne of their

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Jehovah, and is stationary. The effect of night and day is, therefore, produced by earth's dailyrotation.

I have since discovered that the language of the people of the Inner World is much like theSanskrit.

After we had given an account of ourselves to the emissaries from the central seat of government of the inner continent, and my father had, in his crude way, drawn maps, at their request, of the "outside" surface of the earth, showing the divisions of land and water, andgiving the name of each of the continents, large islands and the oceans, we were takenoverland to the city of "Eden," in a conveyance different from anything we have in Europe or America. This vehicle was doubtless some electrical contrivance. It was noiseless, and ranon a single iron rail in perfect balance. The trip was made at a very high rate of speed. Wewere carried up hills and down dales, across valleys and again along the sides of steepmountains, without any apparent attempt having been made to level the earth as we do for railroad tracks. The car seats were huge yet comfortable affairs, and very high above thefloor of the car. On the top of each car were high geared fly wheels lying on their sides, whichwere so automatically adjusted that, as the speed of the car increased, the high speed of

these fly wheels geometrically increased. Jules Galdea explained to us that these revolvingfan-like wheels on top of the cars destroyed atmospheric pressure, or what is generallyunderstood by the term gravitation, and with this force thus destroyed or rendered nugatorythe car is as safe from falling to one side or to other from the single rail track as if it were in avacuum; the fly wheels in their rapid revolutions destroying effectually the so-called power of gravitation, or the force of atmospheric pressure or whatever potent influence it may be thatcauses all unsupported things to fall downward to the earth's surface or to the nearest pointof resistance.

The surprise of my father and myself was indescribable when, amid the regal

magnificence of a spacious hall, wewere finally brought before the GreatHigh Priest, ruler over all the land. Hewas richly robed, and much taller thanthose about him, and could not havebeen less than fourteen or fifteen feet inheight. The immense room in which wewere received seemed finished in solidslabs of gold thickly studded with jewelsof amazing brilliancy.

The city of "Eden" is located in whatseems to be a beautiful valley, yet, infact, it is on the loftiest mountain plateauof the Inner Continent, several thousandfeet higher than any portion of thesurrounding country. It is the mostbeautiful place I have ever beheld in allmy travels. In this elevated garden allmanner of fruits, vines, shrubs, trees,and flowers grow in riotous profusion.

In this garden four rivers have their source in a mighty artesian fountain.They divide and flow in four directions.

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This place is called by inhabitants the "navel of the earth," or the beginning, "the cradle of thehuman race." The names of the rivers are the Euphrates, the Pison, the Gihon, and theHiddekel.17

17"And the Lord God planted a garden, and out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." - The Book of Genesis.

The unexpected awaited us in this palace of beauty, in the finding of our little fishing-craft. Ithad been brought before the High Priest in perfect shape, just as it had been taken from thewaters that day when it was loaded on board the ship by the people who discovered us onthe river more than a year before.

We were given an audience of over two hours with this great dignitary, who seemed kindlydisposed and considerate. He showed himself eagerly interested, asking us numerousquestions, and invariably regarding things about which his emissaries had failed to inquire.

At the conclusion of the interview he inquired our pleasure, asking us whether we wished toremain in his country or if we preferred to return to the "outer" world, providing it were

possible to make a successful return trip, across the frozen belt barriers that encircle both thenorthern and southern openings of the earth.

My father replied: "It would please me and my son to visit your country and see your people,your colleges and palaces of music and art, your great fields, your wonderful forests of timber; and after we have had this pleasurable privilege, we should like to try to return to our home on the 'outside' surface of the earth. This son is my only child, and my good wife will beweary awaiting our return."

"I fear you can never return," replied the Chief High Priest, "because the way is a mosthazardous one. However, you shall visit the different countries with Jules Galdea as your

escort, and be accorded every courtesy and kindness. Whenever you are ready to attempt areturn voyage, I assure you that your boat which is here on exhibition shall be put in thewaters of the river Hiddekel at its mouth, and we will bid you Jehovah-speed."

Thus terminated our only interview with the High Priest or Ruler of the continent.

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PART FOUR:

In The Under World

We learned that the males do not marry before they are from seventy-five to one hundredyears old, and that the age at which women enter wedlock is only a little less, and that bothmen and women frequently live to be from six to eight hundred years old, and in someinstances much older.18

18Josephus says: "God prolonged the life of the patriarchs that preceded the deluge, both onaccount of their virtues and to give them the opportunity of perfecting the sciences of geometry and astronomy, which they had discovered; which they could not have done if they had not lived 600 years, because it is only after the lapse of 600 years that the great year isaccomplished." -- Flammarion, Astronomical Myths, Paris p. 26

During the following year we visited many villages and towns, prominent among them beingthe cities of Nigi, Delfi, Hectea, and my father was called upon no less than a half-dozentimes to go over the maps which had been made from the rough sketches he had originallygiven of the divisions of land and water on the "outside" surface of the earth.

I remember hearing my father remark that the giant race of people in the land of "The SmokyGod" had almost as accurate an idea of the geography of the "outside" surface of the earth

as had the average college professor in Stockholm.

In our travels we came to a forest of gigantic trees, near the city of Delfi. Had the Bible saidthere were trees towering over three hundred feet in height, and more than thirty feet indiameter, growing in the Garden of Eden, the Ingersolls, the Tom Paines and Voltaires woulddoubtless have pronounced the statement a myth. Yet this is the description of Californiasequoia gigantea; but these California giants pale into insignificance when compared with theforest Goliaths found in the "within" continent, where abound mighty trees from eight hundredto one thousand feet in height, and from one hundred to one hundred and twenty feet indiameter; countless in numbers and forming forests extending hundreds of miles back fromthe sea.

The people are exceedingly musical, and learned to a remarkable degree in their arts andsciences, especially geometry and astronomy. Their cities are equipped with vast palaces of music, where not infrequently as many as twenty-five thousand lusty voices of this giant race

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swell forth in mighty choruses of the most sublime symphonies. The children are notsupposed to attend institutions of learning before they are twenty years old. Then their schoollife begins and continues for thirty years, ten of which are uniformly devoted by both sexes tothe study of music.

Their principal vocations are architecture, agriculture, horticulture, the raising of vast herds of cattle, and the building of conveyances peculiar to that country, for travel on land and water.By some device which I cannot explain, they hold communion with one another between themost distant parts of their country, on air currents.

All buildings are erected with special regard to strength, durability, beauty and symmetry, andwith a style of architecture vastly more attractive to the eye than any I have ever observedelsewhere.

About three-fourths of the "inner" surface of the earth is land and about one-fourth water.There are numerous rivers of tremendous size, some flowing in a northerly direction andothers southerly. Some of these rivers are thirty miles in width, and it is out of these vastwaterways, at the extreme northern and southern parts of the "inside" surface of the earth, in

regions where low temperatures are experienced, that freshwater icebergs are formed. Theyare then pushed out to sea like huge tongues of ice, by the abnormal freshets of turbulentwaters that, twice every year, sweep everything before them.

We saw innumerable specimens of bird-life no larger than those encountered in the forests of Europe or America. It is well known that during the last few years whole species of birds havequit the earth. A writer in a recent article on this subject says:19

19"Almost every year sees the final extinction of one or more bird species. Out of fourteenvarieties of birds found a century since on a single island - the West Indian island of St.Thomas - eight have now to be numbered among the missing."

Is it not possible that these disappearing bird species quit their habitation without, and find anasylum in the "within world"?

Whether inland among the mountains, or along the seashore, we found bird life prolific. Whenthey spread their great wings some of the birds appeared to measure thirty feet from tip to tip.They are of great variety and many colors. We were permitted to climb up on the edge of arock and examine a nest of eggs. There were five in the nest, each of which was at least twofeet in length and fifteen inches in diameter.

After we had been in the city of Hectea about a week, Professor Galdea took us to an inlet,

where we saw thousands of tortoises along the sandy shore. I hesitate to state the size of these great creatures. They were from twenty-five to thirty feet in length, from fifteen totwenty feet in width and fully seven feet in height. When one of them projected its head it hadthe appearance of some hideous sea monster.

The strange conditions "within" are favorable not only for vast meadows of luxuriant grasses,forests of giant trees, and all manner of vegetable life, but wonderful animal life as well.

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One day we saw a great herd of elephants. There must have been fivehundred of these thunder-throatedmonsters, with their restlessly wavingtrunks. They were tearing huge boughsfrom the trees and trampling smaller growth into dust like so much hazel-brush. They would average over 100feet in length and from 75 to 85 inheight.

It seemed, as I gazed upon thiswonderful herd of giant elephants, that Iwas again living in the public library atStockholm, where I had spent muchtime studying the wonders of theMiocene age. I was filled with muteastonishment, and my father was

speechless with awe. He held my armwith a protecting grip, as if fearful harmwould overtake us. We were two atomsin this great forest, and, fortunately,unobserved by this vast herd of elephants as they drifted on and away,following a leader as does a herd of sheep. They browsed from growingherbage which they encountered asthey traveled, and now and again shookthe firmament with their deep

bellowing.20

20 "Moreover, there were a great number of elephants in the island: and there was provision for animals of every kind. Also whatever fragrant things there are in the earth, whether roots or herbage, or woods, or distilling dropsof flowers or fruits, grew and thrived in that land." - The Cratyluo of Plato.

There is a hazy mist that goes up from the land each evening, and it invariably rains onceevery twenty-four hours. This great moisture and invigorating electrical light and warmthaccount perhaps for the luxuriant vegetation, while the highly charged electrical air and theevenness of climatic conditions may have much to do with giant growth and longevity of all

animal life.

In places the level valleys stretched away for many miles in every direction. "The SmokyGod", in its clear white light, looked calmly down. There was an intoxication in the electricallysurcharged air that fanned the cheek as softly as a vanishing whisper. Nature chanted alullaby in the faint murmur of winds whose breath was sweet with the fragrance of bud andblossom.

After having spent considerably more than a year in visiting several of the many cities of the"within" world and a great deal of intervening country, and more than two years had passedfrom the time we had been picked up by the great excursion ship on the river, we decided tocast our fortunes once more upon the sea, and endeavor to regain the "outside" surface of the earth.

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We made known our wishes, and they were reluctantly but promptly followed. Our hosts gavemy father, at his request, various maps showing the entire "inside" surface of the earth, itscities, oceans, seas, rivers, gulfs and bays. They also generously offered to give us all thebags of gold nuggets -- some of them as large as a goose's egg -- that we were willing toattempt to take with us in our little fishing-boat.

In due time we returned to Jehu, at which place we spent one month in fixing up andoverhauling our little fishing sloop. After all was in readiness, the same ship "Naz" thatoriginally discovered us, took us on board and sailed to the mouth of the river Hiddekel.

After our giant brothers had launched our little craft for us, they were most cordially regretfulat parting, and evinced much solicitude for our safety. My father swore by the Gods Odin andThor that he would surely return again within a year or two and pay them another visit. Andthus we bade them adieu. We made ready and hoisted our sail, but there was little breeze.We were becalmed within an hour after our giant friends had left us and started on their return trip.

The winds were constantly blowing south, that is, they were blowing from northern opening of

the earth toward that which we knew to be south, but which, according to our compass'spointing finger, was directly north.

For three days we tried to sail, and to beat against the wind, but to no avail. Whereupon myfather said: "My son, to return by the same route as we came in is impossible at this time of year. I wonder why we did not think of this before. We have been here almost two and a half years; therefore, this is the season when the sun is beginning to shine in at the southernopening of the earth. The long cold night is on in the Spitzbergen country."

"What shall we do?" I inquired.

"There is only one thing we can do," my father replied, "and that is to go south." Accordingly,he turned the craft about, gave it full reef, and started by the compass north but, in fact,directly south. The wind was strong, and we seemed to have struck a current that wasrunning with remarkable swiftness in the same direction.

In just forty days we arrived at Delfi, a city we had visited in company with our guides JulesGaldea and his wife, near the mouth of the Gihon river. Here we stopped for two days, andwere most hospitably entertained by the same people who had welcomed us on our former visit. We laid in some additional provisions and again set sail, following the needle due north.

On our outward trip we came through a narrow channel which appeared to be a separating

body of water between two considerable bodies of land. There was a beautiful beach to our right, and we decided to reconnoiter. Casting anchor, we waded ashore to rest up for a daybefore continuing the outward hazardous undertaking. We built a fire and threw on somesticks of dry driftwood. While my father was walking along the shore, I prepared a temptingrepast from supplies we had provided.

There was a mild, luminous light which my father said resulted from the sun shining in fromthe south aperture of the earth. That night we slept soundly, and awakened the next morningas refreshed as if we had been in our own beds at Stockholm.

After breakfast we started out on an inland tour of discovery, but had not gone far when wesighted some birds which we recognized at once as belonging to the penguin family. Theyare flightless birds, but excellent swimmers and tremendous in size, with white breast, shortwings, black head, and long peaked bills. They stand fully nine feet high. They looked at us

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with little surprise, and presently waddled, rather than walked, toward the water, and swamaway in a northerly direction.21

21"The nights are never so dark at the Poles as in other regions, for the moon and stars seemto possess twice as much light and effulgence. In addition, there is a continuous light, thevaried shades and play of which are amongst the strangest phenomena of nature." -Rambrosson's Astronomy.

The events that occurred during the following hundred or more days beggar description. Wewere on an open and iceless sea. The month we reckoned to be November or December,and we knew the so-called South Pole was turned toward the sun. Therefore, when passingout and away from the internal electrical light of "The Smoky God" and its genial warmth, wewould be met by the light and warmth of the sun, shining in through the south opening of theearth. We were not mistaken.22

22"The fact that gives the phenomenon of the polar aurora its greatest importance is that theearth becomes self-luminous; that, besides the light which as a planet is received from thecentral body, it shows a capability of sustaining a luminous process proper to itself." -

Humboldt.

There were times when our little craft, driven by wind that was continuous and persistent,shot through the waters like an arrow. Indeed, had we encountered a hidden rock or obstacle, our little vessel would gave been crushed into kindling-wood.

At last we were conscious that the atmosphere was growing decidedly colder, and, a fewdays later, icebergs were sighted far to the left. My father argued, and correctly, that the

winds which filled our sails came fromthe warm climate "within." The time of the year was certainly most auspicious

for us to make our dash for the"outside" world and attempt to scud our fishing sloop through open channels of the frozen zone which surrounds thepolar regions.

We were soon amid the ice-packs, andhow our little craft got through thenarrow channels and escaped beingcrushed I know not. The compassbehaved in the same drunken and

unreliable fashion in passing over thesouthern curve or edge of the earth'sshell as it had done on our inbound tripat the northern entrance. It gyrated,dipped and seemed like a thingpossessed.23

23Captain Sabine, on page 105 in"Voyages in the Arctic Regions," says:"The geographical determination of thedirection and intensity of the magnetic forces at different points of the earth'ssurface has been regarded as anobject worthy of especial research. To

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examine in different parts of the globe, the declination, inclination and intensity of themagnetic force, and their periodical and secular variations, and mutual relations and dependencies could be duly investigated only in fixed magnetical observatories."

One day as I was lazily looking over the sloop's side into the clear waters, my father shouted:"Breakers ahead!" Looking up, I saw through a lifting mist a white object that towered severalhundred feet high, completely shutting off our advance. We lowered sail immediately, andnone too soon. In a moment we found ourselves wedged between two monstrous icebergs.Each was crowding and grinding against its fellow mountain of ice. They were like two godsof war contending for supremacy. We were greatly alarmed. Indeed, we were between thelines of a battle royal; the sonorous thunder of the grinding ice was like the continued volleysof artillery. Blocks of ice larger than a house were frequently lifted up a hundred feet by themighty force of lateral pressure; they would shudder and rock to and fro for a few seconds,then come crashing down with a deafening roar, and disappear in the foaming waters. Thus,for more than two hours, the contest of the icy giants continued.

It seemed as if the end had come. The ice pressure was terrific, and while we were notcaught in the dangerous part of the jam, and were safe for the time being, yet the heaving

and rending of tons of ice as it fell splashing here and there into the watery depths filled uswith shaking fear.

Finally, to our great joy, the grinding of the ice ceased, and within a few hours the great massslowly divided, and, as if an act of Providence had been performed, right before us lay anopen channel. Should we venture with our little craft into this opening? If the pressure cameon again, our little sloop as well as ourselves would be crushed into nothingness. We decidedto take the chance, and, accordingly, hoisted our sail to a favouring breeze, and soon startedout like a race-horse, running the gauntlet of this unknown narrow channel of open water.

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PART FIVE:

Among The Ice Packs

For the next forty-five days our time was employed in dodging icebergs and huntingchannels; indeed, had we not been favored with a strong south wind and a small boat, I

doubt if this story could have ever been given to the world.

At last, there came a morning when my father said: "My son, I think we are to see home. Weare almost through the ice. See! the open water lies before us."

However, there were a few icebergs that had floated far northward into the open water stillahead of us on either side, stretching away for many miles. Directly in front of us, and by thecompass, which had now righted itself, due north, there was an open sea.

"What a wonderful story we have to tell the people of Stockholm," continued my father, whilea look of pardonable elation lighted up his honest face. "And think of the gold nuggets stowed

away in the hold!"

I spoke kind words of praise to my father, not alone for this fortitude and endurance, but alsofor his courageous daring as a discoverer, and for having made the voyage that nowpromised a successful end. I was grateful, too, that he had gathered the wealth of gold wewere carrying home.

While congratulating ourselves on the goodly supply of provisions and water we still had onhand, and on the dangers we had escaped, we were startled by hearing a most terrificexplosion, caused by the tearing apart of huge mountain of ice. It was a deafening roar likethe firing of thousand cannon. We were sailing at the time with great speed, and happened to

be near a monstrous iceberg which to all appearances was as immovable as a rockboundisland. It seemed, however, that the iceberg had split and was breaking apart, whereupon thebalance of the monster along which we were sailing was destroyed, and it began dipping

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from us. My father quickly anticipated the danger before I realized its awful possibilities. Theiceberg extended down into the water many hundreds of feet, and, as it tipped over, theportion coming up out of the water caught our fishing-craft like a lever on a fulcrum, andthrew it into the air as if it had been a foot-ball.

Our boat fell back on the iceberg, that by this time had changed the side next to us for thetop. My father was still in the boat, having become entangled in the rigging, while I wasthrown some twenty feet away.

I quickly scrambled to my feet and shouted to my father, who answered: "All is well." Justthen a realization dawned upon me. Horror upon horror! The blood froze in my veins. Theiceberg was still in motion, and its great weight and force in toppling over would cause it tosubmerge temporarily. I fully realized what a sucking maelstorm it would produce amid theworlds of water on every side. They would rush into the depression in all their fury, like white-fanged wolves eager for human prey.

In this supreme moment of mental anguish, I remember glancing at our boat, which was lyingon its side, and wondering if it could possibly right itself, and if my father could escape. Was

this the end of our struggles and adventures? Was this death? All these questions flashedthrough my mind in the fraction of a second, and a moment later I was engaged in a life anddeath struggle. The ponderous monolith of ice sank below the surface, and the frigid watersgurgled around me in frenzied anger. I was in a saucer, with the waters pouring in on everyside. A moment more and I lost consciousness.

When I partially recovered my senses, and roused from the swoon of a half-drowned man, Ifound myself wet, stiff, and almost frozen, lying on the iceberg. But there was no sign of myfather or of our little fishing sloop. The monster berg had recovered itself, and, with its newbalance, lifted its head perhaps fifty feet above the waves. The top of this island of ice was aplateau perhaps half an acre in extent.

I loved my father well, and was grief-stricken at the awfulness of his death. I railed at fate,that I, too, had not been permitted to sleep with him in the depths of the ocean. Finally, Iclimbed to my feet and looked about me. The purple-domed sky above, the shoreless greenocean beneath, and only an occasional iceberg discernible! My heart sank in hopelessdespair. I cautiously picked my way across the berg toward the other side, hoping that our fishing craft had righted itself.

Dared I think it possible that may father still lived? It was but a ray of hope that flamed up inmy heart. But the anticipation warmed my blood in my veins and started it rushing like somerare stimulant through every fiber of my body.

I crept close to the precipitous side of the iceberg, and peered far down, hoping, still hoping.Then I made a circle of the berg, scanning every foot of the way, and thus I kept goingaround and around. One part of my brain was certainly becoming maniacal, while the other part, I believe, and do to this day, was perfectly rational.

I was conscious of having made the circuit a dozen times, and while one part of myintelligence knew, in all reason, there was not a vestige of hope, yet some strange fascinatingaberration bewitched and compelled me still to beguile myself with expectation. The other part of my brain seemed to tell me that while there was no possibility of my father being alive,yet, if I quit making the circuitous pilgrimage, if I paused for a single moment, it would beacknowledgment of defeat, and, should I do this, I felt that I should go mad. Thus, hour after hour I walked around and around, afraid to stop and rest, yet physically powerless tocontinue much longer. Oh! horror of horrors! to be cast away in this wide expanse of waters

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without food or drink, and only a treacherous iceberg for an abiding place. My heart sankwithin me, and all semblance of hope was fading into black despair.

Then the hand of the Deliverer wasextended, and the death-like stillness of a solitude rapidly becoming unbearablewas suddenly broken by the firing of asignal-gun. I looked up in startledamazement, when, I saw, less than ahalf-mile away, a whaling-vessel bearingdown toward me with her sail full set.

Evidently my continued activity oniceberg had attracted their attention. Ondrawing near, they put out a boat, and,descending cautiously to the water'sedge, I was rescued, and a little later

lifted on board the whaling-ship.

I found it was Scotch whaler, "TheArlington." She had cleared fromDundee in September, and startedimmediately for the Antarctic, in searchof whales. The captain, AngusMacPherson, seemed kindly disposed,but in matters of discipline, as I soonlearned, possessed of an iron will. When

I attempted to tell him that I had comefrom the "inside" of the earth, the captainand mate looked at each other, shooktheir heads, and insisted on my beingput in a bunk under strict surveillance of the ship's physician.

I was very weak for want of food, andhad not slept for many hours. However,after a few days' rest, I got up one

morning and dressed myself withoutasking permission of the physician or anyone else, and told them that I was assane as anyone.

The captain sent for me and againquestioned me concerning where I hadcome from, and how I came to be aloneon an iceberg in the far off AntarcticOcean. I replied that I had just comefrom the "inside" of the earth, andproceeded to tell him how my father andmyself had gone in by way of Spitzbergen, and come out by way of

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the South Pole country, whereupon I was put in irons. I afterward heard the captain tell themate that I was as crazy as a March hare, and that I must remain in confinement until I wasrational enough to give a truthful account of myself.

Finally after much pleading and many promises, I was released from irons. I then and theredecided to invent some story that would satisfy the captain, and never again refer to my tripto the land of "The Smoky God," at least until I was safe among friends.

Within a fortnight I was permitted to go about and take my place as one of the seamen. Alittle later the captain asked me for an explanation. I told him that my experience had been sohorrible that I was fearful of my memory, and begged him to permit me to leave the questionunanswered until some time in the future. "I think you are recovering considerably," he said,"but you are not sane yet by a good deal." "Permit me to do such work as you may assign," Ireplied, "and if it does not compensate you sufficiently, I will pay you immediately after I reachStockholm - to the last penny." Thus the matter rested.

On finally reaching Stockholm, as I have already related, I found that my good mother hadgone to her reward more than a year before. I have also told how, later, the treachery of a

relative landed me in a madhouse, where I remained for twenty-eight years -- seeminglyunending years -- and, still later, after my release, how I returned to the life of a fisherman,following it sedulously for twenty-seven years, then how I came to America, and finally to LosAngeles, California. But all this can be of little interest to the reader. Indeed, it seems to methe climax of my wonderful travels and strange adventures was reached when the Scotchsailing-vessel took me from an iceberg on the Antarctic Ocean.

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PART SIX:

Conclusion

In concluding this history of my adventures, I wish to state that I firmly believe science is yetin its infancy concerning the cosmology of the earth. There is so much that is unaccountedfor by the world's accepted knowledge of to-day, and will ever remain so until the land of "TheSmoky God" is known and recognized by our geographers.

It is the land from whence came the great logs of cedar that have been found by explorers in

open waters far over the northern edge of the earth's crust, and also the bodies of mammothswhose bones are found in vast beds on the Siberian coast.

Northern explorers have done much. Sir John Franklin, De Haven Grinnell, Sir John Murray,Kane, Melville, Hall, Nansen, Schwatka, Greely, Peary, Ross, Gerlache, Bernacchi, Andree,Amsden, Amundson and others have all been striving to storm the frozen citadel of mystery.

I firmly believe that Andree and two brave companions, Strindberg and Fraenckell, whosailed away in the balloon "Oreon" from the northwest coast of Spitsbergen on that Sundayafternoon of July 11, 1897, are now in the "within" world, and doubtless are being entertainedas my father and myself were entertained by the kind-hearted giant race inhabiting the inner

Atlantic Continent.

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Having, in my humble way, devotedyears to these problems, I am wellacquainted with the accepteddefinitions of gravity, as well as thecause of the magnetic needle'sattraction, and I am prepared to saythat it is my firm belief that themagnetic needle is influenced solelyby electric currents which completelyenvelop the earth like a garment,and that these electric currents in anendless circuit pass out of thesouthern end of the earth'scylindrical opening, diffusing andspreading themselves over all the"outside" surface, and rushing madlyon in their course toward the NorthPole. And while these currents

seemingly dash off into space at theearth's curve or edge, yet they dropagain to the "inside" surface andcontinue their way southward alongthe inside of the earth's crust, towardthe opening of the so-called SouthPole.24

24"Mr. Lemstrom concluded that anelectric discharge which could only be seen by means of the

spectroscope was taking place onthe surface of the ground all around him, and that from a distance it would appear as a faint display of Aurora, the phenomena of pale and flaming light which is some timesseen on the top of the Spitzbergen

Mountains." -- The Arctic Manual, page 739.

As to gravity, no one knows what it is, because it has not been determined whether it isatmospheric pressure that causes the apple to fall, or whether, 150 miles below the surface

of the earth, supposedly one-half way through the earth's crust, there exists some powerfulloadstone attraction that draws it. Therefore, whether the apple, when it leaves the limb of thetree, is drawn or impelled downward to the nearest point of resistance, is unknown to thestudents of physics.

Sir James Ross claimed to have discovered the magnetic pole at about seventy-four degreeslatitude. This is wrong - the magnetic pole is exactly one-half the distance through the earth'scrust. Thus, if the earth's crust is three hundred miles in thickness, which is the distance Iestimate it to be, then the magnetic pole is undoubtedly one hundred and fifty miles below thesurface of the earth, it matters not where the test is made. And at this particular point onehundred and fifty miles below the surface, gravity ceases, becomes neutralized; and when

we pass beyond that point on toward the "inside" surface of the earth, a reverse attractiongeometrically increases in power, until the other one hundred and fifty miles of distance istraversed, which would bring us out on the "inside" of the earth.

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Thus, if a hole were bored down through the earth's crust at London, Paris, New York,Chicago, or Los Angeles, a distance of three hundred miles, it would connect the twosurfaces. While the inertia and momentum of a weight dropped in from the "outside" surfacewould carry it far past the magnetic center, yet, before reaching the "inside" surface of theearth it would gradually diminish in speed, after passing the half-way point, finally pause andimmediately fall back toward the "outside" surface, and continue thus to oscillate, like theswinging of a pendulum with the power removed, until it would finally rest at the magneticcenter, or at that particular point exactly one-half the distance between the "outside" surfaceand the "inside" surface of the earth.

The gyration of the earth in its daily act of whirling around in its spiral rotation -- at a rategreater than one thousand miles every hour, or about seventeen miles per second -- makesof it a vast electro-generating body, a huge machine, a mighty prototype of the puny-man-made dynamo, which, at best, is but a feeble imitation of nature's original.

The valleys of this inner Atlantis Continent, bordering the upper waters of the farthest northare in season covered with the most magnificent and luxuriant flowers. Not hundreds andthousands, but millions, of acres, from which the pollen or blossoms are carried far away in

almost every direction by the earth's spiral gyrations and the agitation of the wind resultingtherefrom, and it is these blossoms or pollen from the vast floral meadows "within" thatproduce the colored snows of the Arctic regions that have so mystified the northernexplorers.25

25Kane, vol. I, page 44, says: "We passed the 'crimson cliffs' of Sir John Ross in the forenoonof August 5th. The patches of red snow from which they derive their name could be seenclearly at the distance of ten miles from the coast."

La Chambre, in an account of Andree's balloon expedition, on page 144, says: "On the isle of Amsterdam the snow is tinted with red for a considerable distance, and the savants are

collecting it to examine it microscopically. It presents, in fact, certain peculiarities; it is thought that it contains very small plants. Scoreby, the famous whaler, had already remarked this."

Beyond question, this new land "within" is the home, the cradle, of the human race, andviewed from the standpoint of the discoveries made by us, must of necessity have a mostimportant bearing on all physical, paleontological, archaeological, philological, andmythological theories of antiquity.

The same idea of going back to the land of mystery -- to the very beginning -- to the origin of man -- is found in Egyptian traditions of the earlier terrestrial regions of the gods, heroes andmen, from the historical fragments of Manetho, fully verified by the historical records taken

from the more recent excavations of Pompeii as well as traditions of the North AmericanIndians.

***

It is now one hour past midnight - the new year of 1908 is here, and this is the third daythereof, and having at last finished the record of my strange travels and adventures I wishgiven to the world, I am ready, and even longing, for the peaceful rest which I am sure willfollow life's trials and vicissitudes. I am old in years, and ripe both with adventures andsorrows, yet rich with the few friends I have cemented to me in my struggles to lead a justand upright life. Like a story that is well-nigh told, my life is ebbing away. The presentiment isstrong within me that I shall not live to see the rising of another sun. Thus do I conclude mymessage.

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Olaf Jansen.

PART SEVEN:

Author's Afterword

I found much difficulty in deciphering and editing the manuscripts of Olaf Jansen. However, I

have taken the liberty of reconstructing only a very few expressions, and in doing this have inno way changed the spirit or meaning. Otherwise, the original text has neither been added tonor taken from.

It is impossible for me to express my opinion as to the value or reliability of the wonderfulstatements made by Olaf Jansen. The description here given of the strange lands and peoplevisited by him, location of cities, the names and directions of rivers, and other informationherein combined, conform in every way to the rough drawings given into my custody by thisancient Norseman, which drawings together with the manuscript it is my intention at somelater date to give to the Smithsonian Institution, to preserve for the benefit of those interestedin the mysteries of the "Farthest North" - the frozen circle of silence. It is certain there are

many things in Vedic literature, in "Josephus," the "Odyssey," the "Iliad," Terrien deLacouperie's "Early History of Chinese Civilization," Flammarion's "Astronomical Myths,"Lenormant's "Beginnings of the History," Hesiod's "Theogony," Sir John de Maundeville's

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writings, and Sayce's "Records of the Past," that, to say the least, are strangely in harmonywith the seemingly incredible text found in the yellow manuscript of the old Norseman, Olaf Jansen, and now for the first time given to the world.

THE END

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the smoky god (willis george emerson)

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